Whistle Into The Night
by Nobody419
Summary: A young man in a tweed jacket with ancient eyes gets life lessons from a child.


**Hello there friendly readers! Warning: this is my first story so go easy on my self esteem. **

**Little melancholy, little sweet...**

**Oh, and I don't own Doctor Who. If I did, he'd still be travelling with Amy and Rory. **

* * *

Perhaps it was because they were both different. The odd man; the one who wore a tweed jacket, the man who insisted that bow ties were cool, the owner of deep eyes that were worn and miserable no matter how brightly he grinned and the man who smiled up at the sky like he knew every secret the stars held. The quiet little girl; the one who refused to leave her home without the comfort of her worn, gray hoodie, the little girl who had perfected a smile to hide the pain, the child who neglected to brush her hair and the one who forever refused to leave anyone alone, no matter how 'different'.

And perhaps they were drawn to each other because they were both different. Perhaps that was why, at eight o'clock, as the sun was sinking into the horizon and the first stars began to dot the sky in Leadworth, the little girl strayed from her usual path to the library and slowly, hesitantly picking her way across the sidewalk to the man. He looked to be about thirty and was sitting on a bench, hunched over, balancing with his elbows on his knees and his hands holding up his head. No one noticed him, but to the little girl—the child who knew loneliness too well to wish it upon anyone—the absolute misery and loneliness radiating off him.

"What's wrong?"

The man jumped at the soft words spoken towards him—he had forgotten what kindness sounded like. He glanced over at the speaker, blinking in surprise as he comprehended the youth of the person who had noticed him. A little girl about twelve years in age was staring up at him worriedly, her warm, hazel eyes dark and soft with concern while her hands were shoved deep into her pockets. Soft, platinum curls cascaded down her back as she waited with genuine, compassion in her eyes.

It took the man another few seconds before he could formulate a response. "What?" he asked her quietly.

His sentence was met with a gentle silence as the girl sat down beside the man, resting wearily against the back of the bench, her tiny frame shedding her backpack with relief as the weight fell to the ground. The man watched her curiously; this girl spoke body language well—she was respectfully averting her eyes and slouching to show she was no threat while maintaining a casual air in a silent promise of no force or meaning behind her words. "What's wrong?" she murmured softly again.

A scoff. "Nothing's wrong!" the man protested, raising his face so that he appeared fine—the girl saw straight through his mask; his façade.

At this the girl shot him a glare. "You're good at faking…" she commented bluntly. "Something's wrong."

"No, nothing is wrong!" he growled, emphasizing each syllable—his dark tone more out of annoyance than anger as the girl persisted.

His interrogator began to pout, sticking out her bottom lip and straightening her shoulders confidently. "Something is definitely wrong." She retorted shortly.

The man recoiled from her hard tone before he sputtered out his clever response. "Definitely nothing is wrong!" he snapped.

"We both know that's not true," the girl folded her arms as she scowled at the stubborn man, shocking him once again with her intolerance for his dishonesty—especially because she knew he was lying to himself. "If nothing's wrong then why are you crying?"

Hollow satisfaction made the girl's heart ache for the man as his eyes widened in surprise and he raised a hand to wipe the tear away from his cheek in shock, staring at the droplet he had captured on his fingers like it was an abomination. And in the next brief moment, the girl snapped the man's tired mask with just a few, simple, beautiful words.

"Everyone gets lonely sometimes…" she murmured. "And if there is one thing I've learned it's that people are crueler, meaner and more evil than I've ever imagined…" a small grin graced her features, her pale lips pulled back slightly as her tired eyes crinkled under the weight of another smile. "And yet, people are still kinder, gentler and more loving than one's ever dreamed…" she stared at the man who had turned away from her and was now glaring bitterly at the ground. "And it seems to me that you understand this better than most people…"

A lengthy, miserable sigh escaped from the man's lips and he sighed, running his fingers through his thick brown hair tiredly. Finally, his silvery eyes flickered up to meet her steady hazel ones. "Yes, I think you're right," he admitted, his shoulders sagging before he quirked a weary smile and shock her a knowing glance. "And I think you understand that as well."

She shrugged, trying to be casual despite the emotional pain the ached in her head daily, unbeknownst to those around. "Guilty…" she muttered unintentional bitterness making the word hard.

Invisible marionette strings made both of the pair tip their heads back slightly to stare up at the sky as stars began to appear. The world seemed to sigh with content as for a few precious minutes, everything was perfect. The violet sky was darkening as the vibrant peach and salmon streaks faded down to melt into the color. The silhouettes of the trees melted to join the rapidly blackening sky. Finally, the deep purple hue made a flawless change into the deep, serene navy of midnight. Scattered glitter was shining faintly among the midnight void that blanketed the space above their heads, glimmering in patterns dubbed different names by creative minds. The concept seemed to be thought simultaneously as both people snickered and grinned up at the stars a little more brightly. Then almost as concurrently the pair's eyes softened.

"They're pretty, huh?"

This time a genuine smile graced the man's lips as he turned slightly to grin at the girl. She was still smiling softly at the sky as she spoke kindly to him.

"And it's all so big…" An old, familiar feeling of joy shuddered down the man's spine at the wonder in the girl's voice. Her eyes shone with a warmth and compassion for the stars that he had missed. "I mean, it's just all so big…" she repeated in melodious awestruck voice. "So many stars and planets and worlds and dimension and realities and…" a wistful look clouded her eyes. "…and so many secrets that this amazing universe holds…"

Slowly, the lonely void in his chest was filling, its raging hunger for a companion soothed by the little girl's familiar words—she thought about the same things he did. Then an old sadness clouded over his warm gaze. "Makes you feel small, doesn't it?" he whispered. "Insignificant?"

Registering him in surprise, the child was silent for a moment as she pondered on the correct way to soothe this man. Eventually she settled with sliding closer across the bench, resting her head gently against his shoulder as she stared at the silky, star speckled sky. "You know something?" she murmured softly. "I used to think like that…But then I learned something…" she pulled away far enough to stare into the silvery orbs that dully took in the beautiful night and she smiled, brightly and warmly, her eyes glowing with infinite compassion as she tried to comfort the young man with ancient eyes. "If the universe is this big and ever expanding, why does it have all these little parts?"

The wise comment triggered a flash of curiosity that temporarily overwhelmed the ancient sadness and the man looked at her curiously, silently encouraging her to continue.

"Because I figure, if the universe is so vast and growing and beautiful yet it has all these little parts…then each one must be really, really important," she grinned, more cheeky and vibrantly than the mischief before. "So don't worry, Mister," Her hazel eyes steadily held the connection between them. "Even a lost soul like yourself knows that there is always hope."

Keeping each movement slow, tiny fingers wrapped gingerly around his hand, folding her lithe digits around his thumb. The man stared at her hand, its small size border-line amusing as the fingers had to settle for coiling around his thumb rather than being lost in his hand. For a second, the girl kept her hand there, allowing the man to take in her delicate fingers before she pulled away and shouldered her backpack.

She sent the man a parting smile. "Have a nice night." She advised casually, nodding respectfully before turning away.

"Wait."

The little girl turned slowly, glancing over her shoulder curiously as the man spoke.

"What's your name?"

Hefting the backpack higher up so it was in a more comfortable position she turned fully and gave a little bow as she introduced herself. "Mireya. My name is Mireya," she cocked her head. "And you, sir? What is your name?"

A look of amusement briefly flashed across his face before he answered. "I'm the Doctor."

His temporary companion winked as she turned away. "I know."

And for once the man who knew more secrets than humanity was ready to know, the man who thought he could figure out everything, try and solve every problem and knew more of the universe than everyone stared in bemused silence as his platinum haired friend walked away; hunched slightly under the weight of the books and she walked down the road smiling at the night sky. And the Doctor could've sworn he heard her whistle a low, alien tune into the night—the extra-terrestrial song filtering out between her lips as she walked away.


End file.
